


All Signs Point to This

by madesimplefic



Category: 21 Jump Street (TV)
Genre: Gen, Holidays, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-16 16:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1354456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madesimplefic/pseuds/madesimplefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The paper crinkled under his touch as he pushed it off the small, white box. The tape stuck to his thumb, which Doug absentmindedly flicked off. He let the curiosity build as he looked up and saw five sets of eyes staring back at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Signs Point to This

The paper crinkled under his touch as he pushed it off the small, white box. The tape stuck to his thumb, which Doug absentmindedly flicked off. He let the curiosity build as he looked up and saw five sets of eyes staring back at him.

“C’mon Penhall, open it up!” Judy smiled as she sat back in her chair, idly brushing a piece of curly hair out of her eyes.

“Yeah man, we haven’t got all day,” Harry chimed in, taking a swig of his punch from the plastic cup.

They all sat together, along with Fuller, Sal, and Hanson, in a small circle in the back of the chapel. It was a silly tradition Judy had started back in that first year the program began, doing a secret santa exchange. It still held strong three years later.

“All right, all right, hold your horses guys,” Doug replied, figuring the suspense had been built up enough. He was probably more anxious then they were to discover what was in the tiny box. The other gifts before this last one had been… _confusing_ , to say the least. Red flannel shirt. Duran Duran cassette tape. A bottle of Midnight Noir. Not exactly Doug-like gifts, except for the cologne (which just so happened to be his favorite). It occurred to him that maybe they weren’t so much as presents as maybe clues, but then he thought maybe he’d been at this cop thing for too long. Still, the whole process was rather intriguing. And whatever was in this box held the key to the mystery.

Doug stifled a laugh and smirked instead when he finally lifted the top. Lying in a bed of fluffy jewelry box lining was a small silver key with an earring hook looped through a hole at the top of the metal. It looked a lot like the one he’d lost over a year ago, on some case he and Tom were working. He knew it wasn’t the same key, but there was a familiarity about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

“Merry Christmas, Doug.” He looked to his right and saw Tom, leaned back in his chair with a knowing smile played on his lips. “It was me; I’m your secret santa.”

“Aw, thanks man,” Doug responded, grabbing Tom’s knee and giving it a little shake in appreciation. His hand lingered for a moment and then grabbed the key, holding it up to show everyone.

“Is that an earring? Don’t you already have one just like it?” Judy asked. Doug shrugged and thumbed his earlobe, guiding the new pseudo-jewelry into place.

“Yeah, but I lost it. Couldn’t get into my apartment for three days until the locksmith made me a new one,” Doug said, giving her a wry smile. Sal and Harry’s laughter bounced in the emptiness of the chapel.

“Well, don’t lose this one this time,” Tom piped in, stretching out his legs. Doug gave him a questioning look and before he could ask why, Sal interrupted.

“Oh you guys, I almost forgot. My wife made some cookies before she took the kids with her to her mom’s house. Can you guys help me bring them in?” Sal said as he pushed his thick-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “She made a couple trays and they’re sitting in the car.” Harry and Judy offered while Fuller took that moment as an opportune time to use the bathroom. Tom stood up from his chair and Doug followed suit, fingering his new accessory.

“So this key,” Doug started.

“What about it?”

“I’m not sure. I mean, it looks like an earring. But I don’t think that’s all there is to it.”

“So what do you think it is?” Tom smiled and stuffed his hands in his ratty jeans pockets, awaiting the answer.

“I think it’s the key to your apartment.”

The silence grew between them, but Tom’s smile never wavered. He reached out and touched the earring between his thumb and forefinger, admiring the gift. Tom stepped closer and lowered his voice to a sort of gravelly pitch, just above a whisper. “Well, tell you what Penhall. If you drive on over to my apartment tonight wearing a red flannel shirt and some cologne and door number one happens to open, then I guess you’ll have your answer.”

Doug raised an eyebrow. “And what’s behind door number one?”

“Your _real_ Christmas present.” Tom laughed at the way Doug’s eyes widened and he sauntered off in the opposite direction, going toward the holiday cookies that just came through the door. He glanced over his shoulder at Doug, who looked a strange mix between dumbfounded and amused. “Don’t forget the music.”


End file.
